A Not-So Typical Weekend

It's been an excellent weekend thus far. I needed to come in to work today, but apart from that, things are going quite swimmingly. Andrea took me to dinner last night at Aquaterra, and I have to say that it is quite possibly the finest restaurant in all of Kingston and the surrounding area. This doesn't surprise me - the former owner of Clark's on King played a key role in its design.

For those of you who'd never gone to Clark's on King or had never heard me speak of it, it was a fantastic restaurant. Have you ever been someplace where you could tell you're surrounded by people who absolutely loved what they're doing? Clark's was that kind of place. Clark used to wander around after people had finished their meals, chatting with them and showing them magic tricks with wine corks.

One meal, I ordered a relatively inexpensive ($40 or so) bottle of Australian Cabernet Sauvignon, and it turned out they didn't have it in stock. So what does Clark do? He offers me a $400 bottle of Piramimma for the same price. That's the mark of someone who's doing something because it's what he loves to do, and not because he thinks it's a good way to make a quick buck.

Clark since retired, and Clark's on King closed. Aquaterra, I believe, is his daughter's restaurant, and Clark played a large role in how the restaurant was built and how it functions. It shows. I had a very difficult time in choosing between a half-dozen different menu items. The food was fantastic, beautiful atmosphere, extensive wine list... but, I've said enough. Just go there. It's good. You'll like it. Bring lots of money.

I'm not used to being taken out for dinner. Not that I expect that sort of thing, but it's a very welcome surprise. I must've thanked Andrea close to a dozen times over the course of the evening. It may well have been the first time that I've been taken out to dinner by a girlfriend when it wasn't some kind of special occasion. I was very, very impressed. And now a significant portion of my mental energy's going into thinking of romantic schemes so as to return the favour.

In other news, I am now the proud owner of my very own cask of Scotch. That's right, a cask. As in a gigantic oak barrel that holds more than 350 bottles of some of Islay's finest single malt whiskey. They're going to let me know when they'll be filling it, so I can watch it via webcam. And I can go visit it any time I like (by appointment). And in ten years, they'll be ready to ship cases of it to my house. But I'll likely wait for twenty to thirty years. That's when it's really good.

I know. I know.